“Listen, John, with all sincerity: I don’t want to be here.”

John knew in that moment exactly what Santino was there for that night, why he had come to his home unannounced, and was sitting at his table.

“Please… Don’t.” John begged. He wanted to leave that life behind. Taking out Viggo and Iosef was personal. He only did it to avenge Marcus and Daisy, respectively, not to go back into the life that he had been through Hell itself to crawl out of only to lose her.

“I’m asking you not to do this.” He finished, giving Santino a look that begged and pleaded for him to change his mind and walk out the door, and never come back. Not again, please…

Santino’s response came swiftly.

“I’m sorry.”

With that he reached into his jacket and pulled it out. John recognized it instantly. The Marker, almost like a coin in Santino’s hand, albeit one much larger than most currency would be typically sized. The token to the blood oath John swore upon when he went to Santino for help with the mission, the task that laid the foundation of the Tarasov mob on that fateful night, which gave John the ability to finally walk away from it all and marry Helen.

He had hoped he’d never see it again.

“No one comes out and gets back without repercussions.” Santino said. The marker clanged against the table as he set it down, before he began to slide it towards John, speaking up yet again.

“I do this, with a heavy heart, John.”

He pointed his finger at John before continuing, his voice going low with warning, as John looked down at the cursed thing in front of him.

“But remember, if not for what I did, on the night of your impossible task: You wouldn’t be here, right now, like this… This…” He gestured his finger around the room. “Is because of me. This, in part, is mine.”

John looked back to Santino, his eyes slowly going from sadness to a hint of anger, before he spoke again.

“Take it back.”

“Take it back?” Santino questioned.

“Take it back.” John repeated, nodding.

Santino’s own eyes narrowed. “A marker is no small thing, John, for a man to grant a marker to another is to bind a soul to a blood oath.”

John leaned forward, peering into Santino’s dark eyes, his anger rising like magma in the depths of a volcano.

“Find someone else.”

For a moment, John thought Santino may lunge for him, before he reached forward and grabbed the marker.

“Listen to me.” He said as he opened up the device. “What is this, hmm?” He pointed to the bloody thumbprint within. “Do you remember? This is your blood. You came to me; I helped you, if you don’t do this… You know the consequences.”

John looked at the marker yet again before looking back at Santino. “I’m not that guy anymore.”

Santino stared at him for a tense moment before closing the marker. “You’re always that guy, John.” He set the marker onto the table yet again.

John only shook his head slightly. “I can’t help you.” He placed his middle and index fingers onto the marker before sliding it back to Santino. Santino looked down to it before looking back up to John with a glare.

“I’m sorry.” John said as he moved to stand up. Santino hesitated for a brief moment before picking up the marker and placing it back into his jacket.

“Yes.” Santino said. “You’re right. You can’t.” He too stood up, placing his hands in his pockets, looking John dead in the yes.

“But he can.” As he began to walk away, Santino spoke. “See you soon, John.”

John opened the door for him as he left the house, looking at the people assembled outside his home standing watch as Santino stepped over the threshold, before he turned around to face John yet again.

“You have a beautiful home, John.” He then muttered a brief farewell in Italian before walking away.

John looked on for a few moments before closing the door, moving into the living room, before looking upon the framed photograph on one of the tables. He picked it up and held it in his hands, looking at the face of the woman he loved. After a few moments, he heard glass shattering in front of him, before there was a flash of orange closely followed closely by a large explosion. The next thing John felt was searing agony as glass shards pierced into his chest, abdomen, and face as he was launched back onto the ground outside.

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, as the sound of the flames engulfing his house slowly began to grow muffled in his ears as he saw blackness at the edges of his vision.

So this was it? This was how it was going to end, wasn’t it? John was surprised to find himself at ease. At least he was going to see Helen again, soon, and hold her in his arms like before.

That thought was the only thing on his mind as he surrendered to the pain and blackness, slipping away into the embrace of what he thought to be death, waiting anxiously to be with his beloved again.

Feeding the animals was a task that Fluttershy enjoyed immensely in her job as Ponyville’s animal caretaker, making sure each and every one of them got their share of breakfast was the perfect motivator for her to face the oncoming day as she placed bowls and plates of various delicacies in front of her animal friends.

This did not mean all of them were easy to please, of course, as was evidenced by Angel’s well aimed throw at her head with the carrot she’d placed on his plate.

“Angel!” She scolded, turning back to face him. “You do not throw your food at others, mister!”

The rabbit glared at her as he tapped his foot, before sticking his nose up at the remaining carrots in his plate.

“You can turn your nose up at it all you like, that is your breakfast, and I’m not making you anything else.” She said firmly as she looked down at him.

Angel met her gaze for a time, the two locked in a staring contest so intense one could mistake the Pegasus and Bunny as mortal enemies, before he finally slumped in defeat, and began to nibble on a carrot from the plate, albeit none too happily.

Satisfied with Angel's surrender, Fluttershy turned to Harry to give him the bowl full of fish for his breakfast, before she heard a bird tweeting for her attention from the window, telling her of something terrible it had seen. She immediately turned her attention to him.

“What? What did you see? What’s wrong?” Fluttershy asked as she approached him.

He responded with him seeing a strange creature near the edge of the Everfree Forest, wearing clothing that was covered in blood, who was barely breathing with what looked like serious injuries. At first Fluttershy was afraid, wondering just what this creature could be and why it was so badly hurt, before she squashed those fears. This creature needed her. She couldn’t let her fear get in the way of giving it the care it needed.

She looked up to the bird. “Can you take me to it?”

The bird gave a nod before flying off, with Fluttershy in pursuit, following closely.

The creature wasn’t hard to find, he was surrounded by other woodland creatures that had gathered around in worry, and Fluttershy could see that almost the entire front half of it’s body had been impaled with what looked to be possibly hundreds of shards of what looked to be glass.

Fluttershy was shocked. How could such a thing happen to this poor being? This had to feel like agony, no wonder the being was unconscious, the pain and blood loss likely being the culprits. The being had skin that was pale across it’s body, with black fur on it’s face and head but nowhere else, along with what must’ve been the strangest digits Fluttershy had ever seen

It took Harry’s help to carry this being back to the cottage, and Fluttershy had him place it onto her couch as she collected all of the medical supplies she could from around her cottage before coming towards the couch with a pair of scissors. She carefully and delicately removed the top piece of clothing covering what looked to be the chest before placing them on the table and taking a pain relieving salve she had gotten from Zecora. She very carefully spread it across most of the wounds to ease the pain before she grabbed a pair of tweezers.

It was hard, delicate work to remove all of the shards, which were in his abdomen and legs as well. She had found out this was a male, though of what she had no idea. Once she finally finished the precarious process of removing every piece of glass she could find, she began to wrap him up in every piece of gauze she possibly could, after applying stitches to a few of the more serious lacerations. He’d grunted, grimaced, and groaned during the process. But he had yet to wake up.

She finally finished around noon, before she set the medical supplies aside and felt of what looked to be his forehead. He didn’t feel too warm to her, meaning that he probably did not have fever, meaning no infection. She’d gotten to him on time to stop that, thank Celestia, but there was still one question unanswered. What was he?

She vaguely remembered Twilight talking about encountering similar beings to him through that mirror. But if he was from the mirror, how did he get here? And why was he so far out of Ponyville? There were so many questions that she could not answer, leaving her with only one solution she could think of to try and find the answers: Go to Twilight.

Still, she was very hesitant to leave him alone in the cottage with the animals, what if he woke up and hurt them? She’d never forgive herself if that happened. But there was only one solution to this problem.

The animals were not too happy about having to leave the cottage before she left, but they understood why, so far as Fluttershy could tell. This being needed privacy and time to heal, and she had to know for sure that the animals were all safe while she was gone, so this was the best thing she could do. After locking the cottage door behind her, Fluttershy set off at a gallop towards Ponyville, taking flight once she got enough speed.

She had to reach Twilight, to tell her about what she found, and to bring her to the cottage before this being could awaken.

Because who knew what he would do if he woke up and panicked…

Author's Note

This was an idea that came to me late New Years Eve, so I started working on it on my phone during the party, before I returned home and continued on the computer. I finished the first draft at around 5:30 in the morning, before returning later on and making some edits. I'm a big fan of the John Wick films, so this is something that I'd enjoy doing, assuming the people here enjoy it enough.

Hopefully this is a good way to start this off. Until next time, ladies and gents.